Pages

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

I am making good progress on “Spell Checked”, only 2 more chapters to write!I hope to have some of the first few chapters edited by next week that way I can post chapter 1.I still haven’t decided on a book cover or written the blurb for the back, I guess I am procrastinating doing this because it means that this book is ready to stretch its wings and fly….or come crashing into the ground.

Okay, I know this is Thor, but I could not resist his HOTNESS!

Loki’s Wife

Lily had always taken life seriously, even as a kid she spent her time learning to sew and cook while the other children played games.And now at the age of twenty-four she looked back with much regret, for what man would want a woman who knows nothing of fun?It goes without saying; she would make a good wife having honed those skills to perfection since childhood.Her husband would certainly be well fed, have clean pressed clothes and a tidy house…that is if she had one.But for all her preparations to become the perfect wife, she miscalculated one thing- men liked to have fun and enjoy the company of their female companions above all else.This was something she had no skill for, as she never laughed, never smiled, never teased…even playful banter was lost on her.

It was not long before the rumors started to fly.Any man that had met her was left scratching their head, the irony of such a beautiful woman being so dull, left them befuddled and soon it was said that she had been cursed for something she had done in her past, which left Lily even more melancholy than before.

One day as Lily walked home from the millers with a bag of flour in tote, she ran into a man in the forest.He was tall and handsome, his blond shoulder length hair was tied back with a strip of leather and his eyes sparkled like the waters of the ocean as he leaned against a large oak smiling.Lily had never seen a man as handsome as this one and even his odd attire, dressed as if from a time when men walked around carrying swords, did not distract from his beauty.

“You look like you could use some help carrying that heavy bag of flour,” he said.

Lily did not trust him, so she shifted the bag on her shoulder and replied, “Thank you for you offer, but I must decline.”

“As you wish,” he replied bowing and gesturing for her to pass.Unbeknownst to her, he had made a hole in the flour bag as she passed.

Lily thought for a second, why should she not accept the kindness of such a handsome man.So, she stopped, turned around on heals and tossed him the bag, which tore completely open at the spot where he had made the hole, covering him in the entire contents.Lily paused for a second then laughed so hard, tears welled up in her eyes.

That was the moment Loki knew he had found his wife…for anyone with a laugh as beautiful as hers deserved to have a trickster for a husband.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

There are some things in this town that make you scratch your head and wonder.This is just one of many…it made the state’s Law weekly.

They closed the books on The Culpeper Cow Caper Feb. 5, when the two guys who dumped a dead Black Angus cow in the parking lot of the Culpeper County administrative building in the middle of the night pleaded guilty to same and paid a $25 fine each.

Okay, for those of you coming in late: Last month two ol’ boys in Culpeper, young farmers and cousins as it turns out, found a dead cow that had floated down a river onto their property. They got a call from the county Animal Control office, they said, threatening legal action if they didn’t remove said carcass.

All right, they said. The pair said they walked up the 40-foot-wide stream until they found the animal, realizing then it wasn’t from their herd. They waded into the chest-high frigid water, hooked a line to the sand-covered carcass, pulled it ashore and buried it.

They sent a bill to the county, to the tune of $700, for their trouble and their actual costs. Animal Control responded, um, we only pay $75 for removal and burial.

So they did what they thought was only right. They said, “Have a cow, man.” They carted the dead critter in the back of a pickup and dumped it. In the middle of the night. In the parking lot outside Animal Control.

The boys confessed a few days later and were charged. But getting a conviction on this one was potentially dicey, prosecutors may have realized. They had no eyewitnesses. They had no identification of the cow, and they had no evidence: Exhibit A, i.e., the cow, was in little bitty ground-up pieces somewhere; the county had paid a fertilizer plant 50 bucks to come get the carcass the day it was dumped.

So the boys’ lawyer and the commonwealth’s attorney struck a deal - a $25 fine each, half the fee paid to cart the cow away.

Monday, April 18, 2011

I finally sat down and made my book covers for my YA book series.I am still looking at planet names for the third book and a cover for it as well.For some reason I am procrastinating on getting a cover for “Spell Checked”I guess it is because I am so close to finishing that I know I will have to let it fly on its own soon.

Tell me what you think of the covers…I would love to hear from everyone so please leave a comment.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

In each of us hides a wickedness that few ever act upon, at times it gleans it’s ever watchful eye to the events that unfold each day in our lives, waiting for the opportunity to show its self in full.Most of us just pass this monster off as a fleeting thought when situations arise that leave us biting our tongues in response to the stupidity of our fellow man.Then there are times when you lay by the pool, watching with lustful thoughts the perfect body of your cabana boy, half naked, at your beck and call.What beautiful wicked thoughts you give me as I close my eyes and envelope the suns warmth.You sit on the edge of my lounger, one arm across my hip for balance, reading to me the most erotic of poems until I shift in my seat, letting you know I have had enough of your playful banter.Your lips so close to my ear I can feel your breath on my neck as you whisper. “Would you care for another drink or maybe a massage?” And once again I must quell the wicked thoughts that play through my mind like a porn flick.I can’t help but think about your strong hands across my back kneading the tension from my shoulders, moving down my spine until you reach the small of my back where you lightly run your fingers across my hip and thighs, sending a quiver to my core.What a beautifully wicked game you play cabana boy.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

A Much Needed Declaration, from One Writer to Another

This is your moment, the moment where you learn to believe in yourself.

Your eyes were meant to grace these words, just as I was meant to put them down. What separates this moment from the last is that in this moment, you chose to believe.

Are you doing yourself any favors by heeding your doubts? Would you bother mulling these scant, few words if you did not have an inkling of faith in yourself?

“But how do I break through?” you ask. “How do I begin achieving the level of success I am capable of?”

First, believe.

Second, and most importantly, trust yourself.

Yes, trust! For many this is a slippery word. Life tends to beat us down when we let it; every negative thought and emotion chipping away at our self-image, taking our confidence and dreams with it.

“But how do I learn to trust myself? After all my failures, isn’t it best I not get my hopes up?” you ponder.

Clear the baggage of the past. Instead, arm yourself with the sword of belief, and cool steel of trust. We’ve already determined you a success; why bother arguing?

For the failures of yesterday, yours and mine alike, you are hereby absolved. Leave the shackles by the door. For even if you stray from the path, the experience of the journey holds true, and will help you find your way back. Isn’t experience what is relayed anyways? With the burden lifted, the only thing left is to listen.

Through listening, we act; nothing could be truer for a writer. Instead of wasting your energy on doubt, instead use it to discover what you will say when you cast the final die.

So go ahead and put your thoughts down. What do you have to lose? Get it all out, and keep going. Foster that connection, that inner trust, so that you become a better listener, and learn what it is you’re pouring yourself into. There is always room for scrutiny; learn to use it effectively.

There is no shame in writing about a story before entering it, just as a builder demands a blueprint. Find out what best works for you. Design your discipline in a manner that allows you to achieve goals on a daily basis. In all things, seek balance, so that you continue inspiring thought, and cultivating your yield before sharing the harvest.

Go now, and move forward with confidence, for today you are a success.

S.E. Gordon is a friend of mine that writes Fantasy, he is very good...you should check him out!

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Oh, Scholastic Dictionary of Synonyms, Antonyms & Homonyms...You are now my new BFF, you have walked me through the dark tunnel of repetition, where I can now bask in your brillant light, luminosity, radiance, beam, scintillation, blaze.......

Most people would feel blessed to have a creative mind, not fully understanding what it means to have ideas trebucheted across your mind constantly and at a speed that leaves you more confused than blessed.Your mind doesn’t sleep when you lay your head down, instead it takes advantage of the quiet you have just provided and even the slightest hint of slumber causes it to go into overdrive.Ideas so bizarre it leaves you spending months researching the possibilities.

The problem lies in the nature of these ideas, sometimes they are art or words meant to flow across the pages of a book and other times they are science and math…If you take tourmaline and sandwich it between two pieces of transparent carbon, can the heat difference between the carbon and the tourmaline created by sunlight be enough to cause electricity to flow across it?Since tourmaline is double refractive will it cause an alternating current?If the center was changed to something that is single refractive would it be direct current?Sometimes, it is the unwritten conversations between characters in my book that keep me up, so vivid it’s like watching a movie of your own creation.Even the little things can become a problem…so many possibilities for lunch and I can only choose one…why can’t I decide?

I guess the bright side to all of this is…In a survival situation my mind would be running so fast I would know the solution before anyone else, but would still wait for Darwin’s law to cull the heard, before making my escape.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

There are lots of good things about living in a small town.Traffic is when it takes more than 5 minutes to get across town, locals complain about the line at the DMV if there are more than 3 people in front of them and I can get fresh organic food from local farms at a fraction of the cost.But all of that goodness comes at a price.The nearest mall is 32 miles away (which sucks if you are a city girl), the job market is limited and the Mailman picks-up and delivers mail when he feels like it.

I find it intriguing that I have become friends with the FedEx guys Darren and George, and the UPS guys John and John (weird how they have the same name) but for some reason unknown to me the mailman is elusive.I have tried to say hi on numerous occasions, but he ignores me. When I have a package that has to be signed for, I get this look like I just inconvenient him.I am vexed by his behavior and it saddens me that he is so unfriendly, because he is very cute…except for that attitude of his.So when Christmas rolls around and Darren, George and the John’s all get cookies and gift cards, you my friendly postman will get nothing!

And would it really hurt you to deliver my mail everyday (except Sunday), I only live a mile from the post office for Pete’s sake. I put a priority box in the mail Saturday morning and he didn't come on Saturday, then he removed the package on Monday and put it back in the mail box on top of the rest of the mail, so it did not leave town until Tuesday.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Some of my writer friends are going to New Orleans to do research for their book.Having grown-up around that area, I thought it would be a good idea to find out what my friends in Louisiana think are the most haunted areas in and around NOLA.Let me know if you have any Ghost or Voodoo stories you would like to share or what locations one should visit to find a ghost or two?My Ghost story is from Oak Alley Plantation.

It was my junior year in High school and we were going to Oak Alley for a school trip.There were only 12 of us on this trip and we were granted permission to spend the night in the Plantation house in sleeping bags on the floor.We started off with a tour of the home and grounds, which for the most part was uneventful. As the sun started to set, the air in the house started to feel heavy, all the lights were shut off for the night and we were left to use battery powered lamps and flashlights for the rest of the evening.We sat on the floor in the living room eating sandwiches and talking, but soon things would start to get strange.We could hear noises coming from the wrap around porch.We suspected it was some sort of animal that had made its way to the house, but when we walked around we found nothing.It wasn’t until the hours between midnight and 3am that things got scary.We could hear walking in the upstairs bedrooms all night, voices drifted into the house from the upper level wrap around porch, on the hot muggy air.The sound of a waltzes barely audible and laughter in the back ground, like some long forgotten party that still lingered.At one point myself, another student and the teacher decided to see what was going on up stairs shortly after hearing something large fall to the floor.As we make our way up the stair you could feel the heaviness of the air.We looked in a couple of rooms to see if something had fallen, in one of the bedrooms there was a rocker and as soon as we turned the corner to peep in the rocker started to move like someone just got up from it and the three of us heard “Welcome,” in a soft southern whisper, which sent us running for the stairs. Five minutes later we were all packed-up and on our way home, unable to finish our sleep over in the beautiful Plantation that is Oak Alley.

About Me

As a teen C.G. Powell was selected as a member of her school's newspaper staff. After her first article the editor decided the darkroom was a more suitable place for her skills…or lack of. Since then, she has traveled everywhere—thanks to her innate curiosity about the world and the Navy. In her life time, she has learned: aviation electronics, CCNA networking, Gemology and how to get bloodstains out of the carpet (you never know when you might need that). But her latest, all-consuming, endeavor is storytelling. When asked why, her response was "I live to challenge myself; I like to be pushed outside of my comfort zone and writing is one of those things that pushes my boundaries. Besides it was the only way to share all of the crap bouncing around in my head!"
C.G. Powell lives in Virginia with her husband and children. When she is not writing, you might find her watching hot guys jog past her front window, ordering the cabana boy to fix her another drink or abusing the local authorities…but that’s just hearsay.